


The Day the World Ended (And the Many Times After)

by antpharm



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1981317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antpharm/pseuds/antpharm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On K-Day, Bruce Wayne loses his parents to the kaiju.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day the World Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day Bruce Wayne's world ended, he found another in its wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline will make sense eventually. For now, these are kind of just a handful of vignettes in this universe. Trying to keep things chronological, but I am but a simple man and cannot promise that which I am not skilled enough in planning to provide.

It all started on K-Day. Humanity had always wanted to discover extraterrestrial life, but this wasn’t any life form they had ever dreamed of being greeted by. Out of Gotham Bay rose a great, hulking creature whose epic proportions had only been sketched out in far-fetched science fiction. The monster towered over the Gotham Bay Bridge, but it was by no means a gentle giant. In mere minutes, it tore the steal beams and cables to shreds, killing hundreds in seconds—and it wouldn’t stop there. No, it wouldn’t stop for another five whole days. By then, with the monster having traveled several miles inland, thousands of civilians and military personnel had already lost their lives. Among those killed in the chaos were a Martha and Thomas Wayne, survived only by their son Bruce Wayne now an eight-year-old heir to a multi-billion-dollar fortune. And he never forgot.

As the years went by and attacks seemed to grow more frequent, humanity’s hope was dwindling. The Wayne heir, Bruce Wayne, poured his family fortune into finding a way to somehow regain footing. Wayne money went to recovery foundations, military funding, and research—because, ultimately, none of these other helping efforts were long-term or _effective_. The first sliver of hope to peek through the storm came in the form of trials for equally large, human-operated mechs. Headed by Dr. Kirk Langstrom and Dr. Leslie Thompkins, humanity saw its first chance to really fight back with the birth of the Jaeger Program. And only a year later, the first jaeger, Big Blue—the _Superman_ —took down its first kaiju, with Bruce Wayne at its helm. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent.


	2. Morale of the Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are moments that Bruce Wayne doesn't--can't--forget. This is one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Jason, that spunky li'l rascal.

“LOCCENT, this is Strike Unit Batman requesting to disengage from the Dark Knight. Over.”

“Copy that. Hydraulics disengaging. Exit the Conn-Pod and standby for technicians. Over.”

It doesn’t take long for the clamps to release their limbs and for the Dark Knight’s team to scramble out of the nigh-claustrophobic confines of the jaeger’s cockpit and onto the retractable landing pad. Both partners, regardless of experience, are struggling to catch their breaths as the feeling of freshly disconnected and still-tingling synapses slowly fades.

Bright blue eyes, glowing even brighter from the helmet’s inner lighting, look up at Bruce. It doesn’t take the Drift for Bruce to tell what the boy’s thinking. For a moment, it looks like the Jason can’t breathe. But only for a moment. In a fraction of a second, the drivesuit helmet is yanked off one-handed and the boy lets out a loud whoop in one heavy exhale. “Holy _shit_ , B! Did you _see_ that?”

Despite the technicians that have now silently made their way out, struggling to unscrew the drivesuit from Jason’s body, the boy continues to gesture wildly. Bruce doesn’t have the heart to scold him for making their jobs difficult. “I sure did, chum. Proud of your first take-down, are you?”

That earns him a loud snort and breathy laughter. “Am I _ever?_ ” Jason nearly knocks a technician in the face with his flailing. “That was _incredible!_ Did you see the way I—we, I mean—” The quick correction only pulls harder at Bruce’s near-invisible smile, “punched that thing? We sure got him good, didn’t we?” As if to demonstrate, Jason socks Bruce lightly in the arm. It only hurts a _little_.

“You might want to slow down there a little,” Bruce chuckles, “before you hurt yourself.”

“ _Slow down_ , B?” Jason looks at him, bewildered. The grin never leaves his face but something in his eyes softens, “Think of… Oh man, think of how many _people_ we saved.”

Bruce’s heart skips a beat.

“As long as we’re doing that, I’m _never_ going to slow down, old man.”

 


	3. The Prodigal Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Robin left the nest, there were conflicts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick is Bruce's son until he can't be anymore.

Dick can feel something inside of him burning as he pulls off his drivesuit helmet. Something in him is vibrating and restless, but it _isn’t_ the post-Drift high. He glances over at Bruce, agitated—Bruce, who for all that he must’ve felt Dick’s agitation in the Drift, seems to be pretending nothing is wrong.

“Don’t _do_ that,” Dick snaps unthinkingly. He nearly throws the helmet on the ground, but while it is designed to take more abuse than that Babs would likely have his head for carelessness with equipment.

Bruce looks back at him, unspeaking with a single eyebrow arched slightly. The set of his jaw shifts ever-so-slightly and Dick has spent so many _years_ deeply connected to those slight shifts that that’s all it takes from Bruce to rile him up again. “That— God, don’t look at me like that when we’re not— We’re not always _drifting_. You have to _talk_ to me.”

“I do talk,” Bruce disagrees and if he were anyone other than _Bruce_ , it would sound petulant.

“Not about anything that matters!” Dick argues.

“What do you want me to talk about then, Dick?” Bruce asks _archly_ , in a way that only Bruce Wayne can.

And that _humming_ in his head is back again. That damn humming that makes him want to— God, to kiss Bruce’s jaw, his mouth, maybe _punch_ him in the face. Dick’s entire body trembles. No, these aren’t _his_ emotions. These are vestiges from the Drift—and if they’re not his, then they’re _Bruce’s_.

Dick grits his teeth and tears his eyes away from Bruce. “Never mind,” he bites out, sharp and _daring_ Bruce to try to say something—anything—again. He waits, pauses for a moment because, at least for a moment, he thinks Bruce might actually do something this time.

But he doesn’t because he _never_ does. “I need some air,” Dick mutters bitterly and stalks off.

The worst part of this all is that Dick would _let_ him—let _himself_ —follow wherever those emotions might lead, if only Bruce would _speak_ to him about them. He would let Bruce put his hands, his mouth, his _eyes_ that sometimes burn—all over him. That thought alone makes the humming still, his entire body tensing with a different but entirely familiar sensation curling in his gut.

He can’t lie to himself. The reason he feels this _angry_ is because, sometimes, Dick isn’t sure if these feelings are vestiges at all. 


	4. A Familiar Sensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As far as first loves go, this is far from picture-perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason/Bruce. Inevitably.

The dreams that come are always the same. Big hands emerge from the dark and a weight pins Jason to his bed. It only takes a moment for him to recognize who it is. He would recognize that beautiful jaw, carved out of a sliver of moonlight, anywhere though. In that moment, his breath hitches and Bruce, knowingly, whispers his name, calls him, “ _Jay_.” Sometimes Jason reaches back up. Sometimes they kiss, sometimes they… do decidedly less _innocent_ things.

This time, Jason wakes up in a cold sweat. He can ignore the tightness in his boxers because his heart is pounding and fear coils tight in his chest. He glances around and, not for the first time in a while now, Jason is glad that the Gotham Shatterdome—the _Batcave_ —now has enough rooms for him and Bruce to be housed separately.

Fear more than relief creeps over Jason though as he sits there alone in his bed, trying to take calming breaths. He doesn’t dare touch himself. He doesn’t need more memories and actual _sensations_ attached to those dreams—because then, for _sure_ , Bruce will see them in the Drift.

As he lays down and pulls his blanket tighter around him, Jason wonders what Bruce might do if he did—if he caught even a glimpse of what Jason wanted. Would he look disgusted? Confused? _Hurt?_ It almost seems like a betrayal—greedy, somehow, to yearn for this when he already has so much of Bruce. Or, God forbid, would he look _understanding?_ Would Bruce look at him with soft eyes and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and— Does Bruce _already_ know?

Jason shudders and curls up smaller. He loves Bruce—Bruce who recruited him, trusted him when no one else would, dared to be his partner when everyone else was afraid—but this is different from all of that love. This love, Jason doesn’t know what to do with. This love makes Jason feel crazy and impulsive—not that he’s ever acted on those impulses, of course. Jason feels like he’s being swallowed up by something bigger than he is, larger than anything he knows how to control. This love—and not for the first time in a while now—makes him want to pull Bruce down into this crazy with him.

Jason cocoons himself further in his sheets and imagines Bruce’s arms around him—and tries desperately not to _think_. Maybe when he falls asleep this time, he won’t dream. Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll stop wanting.


	5. Nobody's Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes trying to be a good father isn't enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jack Drake.

“You don’t get to make that kind of call, son! Do you  _know_  the kind of people to pilot jaegers?”

“Yes, of course. They’re  _heroes_ , Dad. They  _save_  people.” Tim’s voice struggles desperately to remain low and calm. He doesn’t point out that his dad certainly wasn’t around to help make that call. That he’s been in the Jaeger Academy for almost an entire year now before his dad even noticed.

Jack Drake’s words are spit like venom, “No, they’re all psychopaths!” Tim flinches. “What kind of people do you think would  _choose_  to climb into a giant robot to fight huge monsters, huh? Not anyone  _sane_ , that’s for sure!”

For the first time since the argument began, Jack turns to look at Tim, walking towards him and putting heavy hands on his shoulders. “You are going to drop out of that school, Tim,” Jack says with complete certainty, “And you are going to inherit Drake Industries. If you want to be a hero, be one that way.”

Drake Industries, one of many suppliers of jaeger parts. Tim wonders what the press would think if they could hear what Jack Drake  _really_  thought about jaeger pilots.

“Do you hear me, son?” Jack asks, eyes firmly fixed on Tim’s. No one has ever been able to say no to his firm gaze. Tim knows it’s how his business has gotten as far as it has just like he knows he’s already lost this fight.

“Yes, Dad,” Tim murmurs.

“Good,” Jack announces and lets Tim go. As soon as his back is turned, Tim looks down, exhaling the breath he’d been holding. He thinks of Stephanie and her bright smile and all their promises to graduate and pilot together and whispers an apology as he begins to mentally draft a letter to explain the leave of absence he’ll be taking. 


	6. Words to Live By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And some things Bruce _does_ forget. But Tim never forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steph and Tim in a jaeger is exactly where I want to take this.

It’s Stephanie who first meets Bruce—first _finds_ Bruce. After one of Bruce’s guest lectures at the Academy, she fought tooth and nail to break through a crowd of students that had stayed for autographs and questions.

“Excuse me!” he can hear the irritated shouts of students being pushed out of the way before he finally spots her, wild blonde hair and fierce blue eyes right in front of him. Bruce almost stumbles back.

“You’re Bruce Wayne, right?” she asks. It’s rhetorical and she, well, she’s… insolent, to say the least. “I need your help.”

Before he can even ask what with, there are papers being thrust in his face. It takes him a minute before he realizes what he’s looking at: an Academy score sheet. A quick glance tells him that they belong to a Timothy Jackson Drake, male, fifteen, and— He doesn’t get to the scores before the papers are gone and he’s face-to-face with the girl again.

“Do you see those, Ranger Wayne?” she asks and only then does he notice the desperate note high in her voice.

“It’s a score sheet?” Bruce replies cautiously.

“Not just _a_ score sheet,” the girl insists, “That’s the score sheet of one of the— No, _the_ highest-scoring student in this program—my _partner_ , Timothy Jackson Drake—and I need you to help me get him back.”

Of course, Bruce is confused and sceptical. And why shouldn’t he be? Who is she and why should he be concerned with a cadet that quit? Lots of cadets quit all the time and the program certainly doesn’t need people like that in multibillion-dollar robots, that’s for sure. But something in him is telling him to take a closer look. Maybe it’s something about _her_ —her stance, her voice, her _eyes_ —that remind him of Jason, and Bruce knows what a hidden gift Jason had been. All he had needed was a chance.

It’s a disappointment to the entire crowd when he raises a hand to send the other students away—he can already hear the groans and feel the glares targeting the girl. It doesn’t really matter though. He’ll be back during their second semester to lecture those who make the first cut.

“Let me take a look at those again,” Bruce says to her, trying not to smile when she looks surprised that the room is clearing out and that he actually _listened_ to her.

“Here,” she mumbles, handing them back over. With the room now empty, she seems to have shied a bit.

“What’s your name?” Bruce asks as he looks them over again.

“Stephanie. Stephanie Brown,” she answers quickly.

“Well, Cadet Brown, when can I meet this Timothy Drake?” She hadn’t been lying. What Bruce sees before him are near-perfect officer training scores, impressive Kwoon results, and—what catches his attention the most—and incredibly high Drift Sync score from a pair that had not enlisted together. Did she know when she showed him that his previous co-pilot and his current co-pilot had both been assigned to him? That he believes wholeheartedly in those matchups, regardless of disadvantages others might cite? Does she know that she absolutely has his full attention now?

 

* * *

 

When Stephanie backpedals and says that she isn’t sure but Tim _should_ be home at the moment, Bruce almost laughs and decides he might as well visit if he’s been impressed by everything else he’s seen so far. It wasn’t like he had anything important planned that day anyway, and it’ll make for a good story to tell Jason when he does get back.

The house Stephanie takes him to looks familiar—a suburban three-bedroom that really is a luxury these days. Remembering the last name, Bruce realizes, of _course_ , this is the house of Jack Drake, owner of Drake Industries. Timothy Drake must be his son. That starts to pique his interest.

When Bruce sees the boy who opens the door and mumbles, “Steph?” hesitantly, his interest only grows. He’s a tiny little thing and, given his Kwoon results, he really does need to see this boy work on the mats to see how he manages that. She’s already pulling him out for a hug when Bruce waves hello, standing just slightly behind her on their porch.

Without a trace of malice, Bruce has to admit that it is kind of funny to watch the boy try to scramble into a ready position with Stephanie’s arms still around him. “Ranger Wayne,” he stutters anxiously.

“Cadet Drake, I take it?” he asks, extending his hand as Stephanie detangles her limbs from Timothy’s person.

“Tim’s fine, thank you,” Tim says, hesitating slightly before shaking Bruce’s hand, “I’m not a cadet anymore.”

“I’m here to talk to you about that, actually.”

Tim looks up, confused, and says as much. “I don’t understand. My letter regarding my indefinite leave of absence was fairly clear, I—”

“Didn’t make that decision for yourself!” Stephanie interjects, the smile she’d had on her face when she first saw Tim twisting into a scowl.

“That really isn’t the point,” Tim mumbles, looking away.

Bruce looks between the both of them and can already see Stephanie gearing up for a fight, hands clenched into tights fists at her sides. She really is a lot like Jason. “Why don’t you let us in and we can talk it over inside, Tim,” Bruce suggests evenly.

Looking from Steph to Bruce, Tim nods a little and does just that. “You can take a seat over on the couch,” he says as he shuts the door behind them.

The interiors of the house are nice, the furniture sleek and modern if not a little sparse. It might be a little too nice, though, for a house with a teenage boy. A little too empty, a little too impersonal.

“Is your father home?” Bruce finds himself asking as he takes in the surroundings.

“Business trip,” Tim supplies.

“As usual,” Steph mutters, crossing her arms bitterly. Ah. Bruce thinks he’s beginning to see the big picture here.

“What made you leave the program, Tim?” Bruce asks gently, “Your scores certainly say they wouldn’t have kicked you out.”

“It’s dangerous,” Tim answers quickly—too quickly. “I… hadn’t thought it through all the way. I was being idealistic without considering the consequences of my actions. I should… I really should be inheriting Drake Industries.”

“Those are your _dad’s_ words, Tim. You _never_ leap into anything without—”

Bruce cuts her off with a question that surprises them both, “And what made you join?”

“I,” the well-rehearsed words he must have used to convince himself stumble to a halt and Tim is forced to consider his next words carefully. He takes a seat across from both of them, fidgeting and eyes wandering around the truly _empty_ living room. “When I first saw the Dark Knight… when my mum died in an attack, that was when—” There’s a short humourless burst of laughter and then, “The Dark Knight was this _hero_ rising from the dust and ashes, showing that these things _could_ be stopped, you know? Like a… beacon of hope. I felt safe in its shadow, knowing it could take that monster down.” Tim rubs absentmindedly at bruises on his arms. Noticing them, Bruce realizes he hasn’t stopped training. “I guess I wanted to be one of the people in those jaegers. Stopping those things, making people feel safe— Making _myself_ feel safe.”

So that’s why Stephanie had wanted Bruce to talk to him. He supposes it is a little different to hear words of reassurance coming from a childhood idol, but Bruce isn’t about to _be_ that for Tim.

“Quitting the program is your choice to make,” Bruce says without hesitation. He pauses for a moment after though because he knows there’s a sting to his next words, “But if you were so willing to give up like this, then maybe it's better that way.”

Already, he can see Tim stiffen and shrink a little bit into his seat. Steph, on the other hand, has her chest puffed out and she looks like she’s ready to attack. Her jaw is set and eyes narrowed because, obviously, this is _not_ what she wanted him to say to Tim. Seeing them side-by-side, Bruce can already imagine what they must look like inside the Conn-Pod already, Steph clearly the right brain. He doesn’t want to just imagine though.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Bruce continues and he can already see Steph growing tenser, moving closer to Tim, “But if you did choose to take up your training again, you wouldn’t be the first succeed either. You know, my Jason isn’t too much older than you.”

Something in Tim’s posture shifts at the mention of Jason. Like watching a solid melt to liquid, Tim is looking at him with imploring eyes as though he _wants_ to hear this bit.

Bruce runs a hand through his hair and hums lightly, “See, I’m not as good at this as he is, but if he were here he would almost certainly be doing whatever Stephanie is doing.” Bruce lets himself smile as Tim casts a bewildered expression Stephanie’s way. “Good potential is hard to find and easy to waste. The world needs jaeger teams right now and, if you can perform as well as your scores suggest, it would be a waste to see the Conn-Pod occupied by a less efficient team.”

Upon those words, Bruce can see Tim’s entire posture change once more. He’s sitting up a little straighter now, a little stiffer—but not in a _bad_ way at all. What he doesn’t know is that Tim is memorizing those words, running them over and over in his head ad turning them into a personal mantra. And he doesn't know that those words will be parroted back at him—the world needs the _best_ jaeger teams out there—when _he_ needs them the most.

“Understood, sir,” Tim whispers, only holding out on the salute that he knows the boy is doing in his heart.

“Good. Then I’ve got to get going,” Bruce announces, standing up abruptly. His exit is quiet and without much fanfare, regardless of whatever admiration Tim clearly holds for him—no, for the _Dark Knight_. Stephanie stays because, clearly, they are going to talk things out. In his heart, Bruce already knows that Tim has changed his mind though—and, maybe soon, the world will see another incredible jaeger team on the field. What Bruce doesn’t know is that he is going to be a part of that jaeger team—that while Stephanie found him _first_ , his world is going to change when _Tim_ finds him.


End file.
